MOVIE REVIEW: 'Silver Linings Playbook' an offbeat pleasure

"Playbook'" is a decidedly black comedy, purporting that mental illness is but a mere roadblock, as two “crazies” literally dance around the notion of falling in love under the influence of psychotropic drugs.

Early in his much-celebrated rookie year with the Philadelphia Eagles, wide receiver DeSean Jackson committed perhaps the most boneheaded play in NFL history when he nabbed a perfect pass from Donovan McNabb and set sail for the end zone with what should have been an easy touchdown. But amid all the excitement of sticking it to the much-hated Dallas Cowboys, he inexplicably dropped the ball at the 1-yard line -- but buoyantly continued on, errantly believing he had scored. Little did the eventual rookie of the year realize he would instantly become a metaphor for delusional, self-aggrandizing guys like Pat Solatano, the clueless protagonist at the forefront of David O. Russell’s bipolar rom-com “Silver Linings Playbook.”

Like his favorite Eagle, Pat, fresh out of the nuthouse, is convinced he’s on a direct path to scoring with his ex, even though it’s clear to everyone else she’s a fumble he’ll never get back. But also like Jackson, Pat will prevail in the end. How he achieves that redemption is at the heart of a decidedly black comedy purporting that mental illness is but a mere roadblock, as two “crazies” literally dance around the notion of falling in love under the influence of psychotropic drugs. He’s a little bit Klonopin, she’s a little bit Xanax, and their lives are like a bad LSD trip until their jogging paths fatefully cross on the streets of suburban Philadelphia. Her name is Tiffany, and as the sister of the best friend of Pat’s ex-wife, she has something Pat -- thanks to a restraining order – no longer has: access to the woman he’s determined to win back. And don’t think Tiffany won’t use that leverage to her advantage. But before we come remotely close to seeing Pat enjoying breakfast at Tiffany’s, we must first traverse a series of amusingly sharp-tongued, love-hate exchanges between the would-be lovers, brashly played by Bradley Cooper and Jennifer Lawrence.

Thus, the stage is set for one of the most pleasurably offbeat experiences since the Eagles last enjoyed a winning season. And before you start, as Tiffany would say, “putting the ju ju” on the film for drastically changing Philly’s fortunes of late, know that the Eagles never lost a game whenever Pat and Tiffany were in each other’s company in 2008, the year the story is set. For the record, they were also hanging out when the Phillies bested the Rays in that autumn’s World Series. And once you succumb to the winning vibes they generate, you’ll understand why no one can lose when they’re together.

Just don’t go in expecting a second coming of Meg Ryan and Tom Hanks. They’re more on a par with Hepburn and Tracy, edgy, cantankerous and just plain ornery. And that’s on their good days. At 22, Lawrence would seem a tad too young for the 37-year-old Cooper, but she projects such maturity and inner strength that she comes across as much older - and wiser - than other actresses her age. She certainly sells you on the notion that Tiffany has lived long enough to have been married, widowed and still had enough time left over to sleep with all 11 of her coworkers - male and female - before enduring a nervous breakdown. As Tiffany likes to say, she’s “a crazy whore widow.” Not that Pat can boast. He was recently sprung from the mental hospital to which he was confined after nearly beating his wife’s lover to death. As a condition of his release, he must live with his parents, stay on his meds and make regular visits to his shrink. One of the film’s many jokes is that Pat’s dad, Pat Sr. (Robert De Niro in his best performance in years), is even crazier than his son. Yes, the nut doesn’t fall far from the tree, as evidenced by Dad’s manic obsession with his beloved Eagles. He believes everything must be in its proper place, including the TV remotes and his son, for the Eagles to win. And when they’re not, watch out. Just ask the Eagles, who’ve forever suspended him from their premises for actions unbecoming a fan.

Page 2 of 2 - I know, it’s not nice to poke fun at mental illness. And for a while, I have to admit, the humor made me squirm as much as it made me laugh. The shifts from frivolity to violent outbursts and back are jarring, just like they were in Russell’s last film, the Oscar-winning “The Fighter.” But once you fall into the story’s rhythms, it works marvelously. And if there’s one thing a genre as tired as romantic-comedy needs, its edginess, which “Playbook” has in spades. Ditto for its outstanding performances. In addition to the two leads and De Niro, we also get yeoman contributions from Julia Stiles as Tiffany’s judgmental sister, John Ortiz as her henpecked brother-in-law, Jacki Weaver (an Oscar nominee for “Animal Kingdom”) as Pat’s doting mom, and Anupam Khur as Pat’s equally crazy shrink. The only lemon is Chris Tucker as Pat’s best pal from the nuthouse, Danny. He keeps awkwardly popping up in Pat’s life, but serves no purpose beyond dragging an otherwise briskly paced film to a screeching halt.

He, along with the movie’s predictable rom-com structure, prove to be only minor liabilities, though, thanks to the efforts of Cooper and Lawrence, who are so dynamic they could make even the worst flick resonate. And Russell’s adaptation of Matthew Quick’s novel is far from rubbish. In fact, it’s quite enchanting, in a bruising sort of way. Still, if “Playbook’s” silver lining is multiple gold statuettes, as many are predicting, Russell needs to thank his lucky stars that he was lucky enough to get stars the caliber of Bradley and Lawrence. They provide a one-two punch that ensures this zany paean to love and the Eagles never falls short of the end zone.

SILVER LININGS PLAYBOOK (R for language and some sexual content.) Cast includes Bradley Cooper, Jennifer Lawrence, Robert De Niro, Jacki Weaver and Julia Stiles. Written and directed by David O. Russell. 3.5 stars out of 4